


Picking Up the Pieces

by moriartys_web



Series: One Short Step from Falling [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt John Watson, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Angst, Reichenbach Feels, Romance, Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriartys_web/pseuds/moriartys_web





	Picking Up the Pieces

_Dread was something that John had grown to know all too well, like a match to kindling dread had taken hold of him like a fire that would rage and burn then flicker to embers. All it ever took was a single spark to ignite the fires once again. And here Sherlock was, a moth drawn to a flame and like a breath to a candle he blew the fire out. All it took was one kiss and John for the first time in 3 years felt safe.  One confession, and John knew he wasn't alone in how he felt._

_Sherlock loves me_.The thought buzzing through the haze in his mind. John took a deep breath, taking a step away and  lifted his eyes up to meet Sherlock's.

"Good." John nodded, "That's- uh good, that we both... yah" he added weakly, looking back down as he refused to let his voice break.

Sherlock's eyes flickered to the concern he was hiding when John ducked his head back down. John, his brave solider who always held his own was so more broken then he was trying to let on. To Sherlock it was almost devastating, a harsh blow of reality that even though John knew he was still alive, he could tell by the jump in John's throat, the slight twitch of his fingers and the forced steadiness of his breath that things where still going to be not good. Then Sherlock pulled John close, wrapping his arms around John and after a moment of awkwardness John relaxed into the hug, burying his face into the crook of Sherlock's neck with uneven breaths and tightly grabbing onto the lapels of Sherlock's coat. Sherlock closed his eyes and turned his head to bury his nose into John's hair.

A rain drop landed on Sherlock's head and he looked up as a few more hit his face. Then all at once the weather took its hold and started pouring down, darkening the pavement and creating  a loud patter as each drop fell the ground. Sherlock looked back at John, who hadn't moved and seemed to take no notice.

"John." he said gently, "We should go." John pulled away slightly and nodded, his face worryingly blank and Sherlock guided him to the door with his hand on John's back. He led them through more vacant areas of the hospital, descending back stairwells that led them to the street. The detective quickly managed to hail a cab which pulled up to the curb spattering the rim of his coat with water. He then held the door for John who wordlessly ducked inside still expressionless. Sherlock followed close behind, puzzling whether John was angry or in shock. He gave the address to the cabbie and risked a side glance at John as they pulled away. Their gaze met, John's eyes pained and then he looked away, staring intently at the dull grey headrest in front of him. His jaw clenched for a second and then his throat jumped. _Not good._

"My address." John said tightly.

Sherlock hesitated before responding and a twinge of guilt pulled at his chest. "Yes."

"You knew where I lived." he shook his head sadly. Sherlock didn't respond, the hurt already setting over the little of John's face he could see. He knew where John lived and the exact number of days he had been away from their flat. He knew where John bought his groceries and that despite the fact he lived across from a Starbucks he still walked two blocks over to buy his coffee. He knew that John suffered from insomnia because he never turned the lights off before 3 am and would occasionally take very late strolls. Sherlock knew that John took a 15 minute detour to work every day so that he wouldn't have to walk past their old flat.

The cab felt painfully silent, even with the rain beating against the windows and the distant sound of traffic from outside. Sherlock watched John stare out of his slightly fogged window that was covered in rain drops distorting the view of cars passing by. Sherlock was tempted to reach out and take John's hand to close space separating them. The gap to him felt so large that they might have been on separate mountain tops. Sherlock's fingers twitched longingly at the thought but he quickly cast the idea aside. The space was a precaution, because John might need it now just as much as he needed Sherlock. 


End file.
